


it's not like it's a secret

by alexconfusion



Series: Heathers but without the death [2]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eating Disorders, Established Relationship, F/F, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexconfusion/pseuds/alexconfusion
Summary: Everyone knows Heather Duke has an eating disorder. Maybe if they spent more time listening to her and less time teasing her about it, she would have some idea how to get better.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Heather McNamara, Heather Duke/Veronica Sawyer
Series: Heathers but without the death [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779091
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	it's not like it's a secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while this is a continuation of the first work in the series, either story can be read on it's own :)
> 
> Trigger Warning:  
> -bulimia  
> -purging/vomiting  
> -brief mention of calorie counting
> 
> this fic is in no way shape or form meant to glamorize eating disorders. heather duke's bulimia was used as a joke in the musical, and that's not okay. she deserved better.

“Ugh, did I do this right?” Chandler asked, thrusting a piece of lined paper riddled with math equations at Veronica. “ _I_ think I’m right.” She reclined in her chair and surveyed her nails. “Just want to be sure."

The noise level in the library never rose much above a low buzz- Except, of course, when the Heathers decided to occupy ‘their’ corner of the room. 

The librarian didn’t appreciate the snippets of conversation she often overheard (most of the time they spoke like they were at a heavy metal concert), but she and Duke had an unspoken compromise that as long as she kept them relatively in check, they could stay. 

Besides, they rarely had any free periods together, so the fact that all four of them managed to be there at the same time in the first place had to be some sort of miracle. 

“Hm.” Veronica squinted at the writing. “Did you check your work?”

“No, that's where you come in. Do I look like a nerd? I swear, sometimes it's like you don't even know me.”

“I mean, it’s cool with me if you want to fail math.”

“I’m _kidding_ -”

A heavy sigh cut through the squabble. 

Glancing in the direction of the sigh, Chandler had the words ‘Duke, be quiet’ halfway out of her mouth before her gaze met a pair of annoyed blue eyes rather than the usual apathetic green. “Mac?”

The girl in question slammed her textbook shut, following it with another huff. “I hate history.”

“Preach,” Duke agreed, without looking up from whatever she was reading. 

“Who cares about Alexander Hamilton? Exactly: Nobody! So why do I have to write an essay about him?” Mac continued hotly, slotting the half-written draft of said essay into her bag.

“Because the school board is a bunch of pricks.” Duke pulled out a pencil and wrote something in the book, before adding, “And half the shit we’re learning doesn’t matter anyhow.”

Chandler hummed. “Especially math. _...Speaking_ of which, Veronica, can you confirm my answer?”

The brunette snorted. “Oh yeah, I figured that out ages ago.” She pointed to a tiny addition problem scrawled out near the bottom of the page. “Last time I checked, six plus two doesn’t equal ten.”

“Damnit. Give me that.” 

With Chandler’s work out of the way, Veronica was free to continue chipping away at her own math sheet. (She didn’t, obviously, but she was free to.) “Whatcha readin’ babe?” She slid into the chair next to Duke, a cheeky grin on full display, because messing around with her girlfriend took priority over homework any day.

“Oh, um,” the shorter girl floundered, hurriedly flipping the book shut. “The usual. Moby Dick.”

Veronica’s smile dimmed, and she lowered her voice. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah.. Yeah, I’m fine. I just have a lot of work to finish. You know, essays and stuff. Nothing quite as bad as Hamilton,” she nudged Mac, “but still not a lot of fun.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure you’ll get a perfect mark, as always.” Veronica rumpled Duke’s hair affectionately. “My little scholar.”

“I am _not_ little!”

“There’s that spark! I knew you had it in you.”

Duke crossed her arms. “That was low, ‘Ronica. Even for you.”

It earned her a laugh from Veronica, who then pulled a granola bar out from somewhere in her huge purse. “Here. It’s hard to concentrate on an empty stomach.”

She didn’t want to take it -she _didn’t_ \- but two moments later, only a wrapper and the sting of mortification remained. 

_Food._

_Crumbs._

_Sticky._

**_Mistake._ **

_Shouldn’t have eaten it. Stupid, stupid, stupid, all I had to say was ‘I’m not hungry’. How could I be this careless?_

The bell signaling the end of their collective free period snapped Duke out of her thoughts. It always felt like a punch to the gut, though it was even more of an annoyance this particular day considering they were actually enjoying each other's company for once. (Last time they were all in the library together, Chandler almost knocked Duke’s teeth out. It was the librarian’s favorite incident to bring up.)

Chandler stood up, sending a quick death glare to the petrified freshman who leaped out of the way the moment he noticed her. “Let’s motor.”

“Ooh, I have science next!”

“Mac, honey, the fact that you’re _excited_ about school screams dweeb.” Chandler’s heels clicked methodically against the tile as they walked, adding an extra layer to the faux pretentiousness of her tone. 

“And the fact that you can’t add one-digit numbers screams six-year-old child.” She grinned. “Besides, you think it’s cute.”

Duke faked a laugh, trying to ignore the rush of nausea that had just hit her like a semi-truck.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. I’m a fucking idiot, this is all my fault. If I had even an ounce of willpower this wouldn’t have happened._ Catching Veronica’s eye, she forced herself to continue smiling. Was it convincing? Debatable. _Nice job putting yourself in the cross-hairs, dummy, now she’s gonna be worried. Fantastic._

She wrapped her thumb and pointer finger around her wrist mechanically.

_Is it possible that it’s bigger already?_

Four pairs of clicking heels turned into three, then two, and then each girl was on her way to class.

Or, in Duke’s case, the bathroom.

* * *

Duke gripped the sides of the sink with sweating palms to keep the world from whizzing in circles around her. She could hear every breath she took, her heart raced, her stomach felt full, too full, _always too full._

(It was never that she didn’t like food. Hell, she’d give anything for that luxury.)

The image of the granola bar drifted into her mind and she lunged for a stall.

She didn't _want_ to puke her guts up into a public toilet -especially coming from the same person who used to refuse to touch door handles if she didn’t have hand sanitizer-, but over time it had become more and more of a necessity. Another part of her daily schedule.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

A sharp pang seared through her stomach and up into her esophagus. 

_Please don’t let this be the one time my throat gets fucked up._

_..Not like it would matter, though._

Tears pricked at her eyes, threatening to drip from the ends of her eyelashes into the cloudy pieces of chewed up granola floating below.

(It didn’t sink in how much everything _hurt_ until after; After she flushed the toilet twice, after she made certain she was empty, after she wiped away the pool of drool mixed with vomit from the toilet seat and the sweat clinging to her face.)

Learning to live with the fact that she was miserable almost all the time was something Duke had mastered at a younger age than she’d like to admit. 

Being empty just made her feel a little bit less miserable. 

She pulled out her toothbrush from her bag and began scrubbing furiously at her teeth. It wasn’t like she had a problem, though, it was perfectly normal to be cautious about oral health.

(When she told the dentist that she brushed four times a day, he had looked incredibly pleased. If only he knew.)

_I’ll do better tomorrow. I have to._

Sometimes she wished she could go back to the first time she ever stuck her finger down her throat and slap herself. Other times she wished she would’ve started sooner.

(Maybe if she started sooner she’d be happy by now.)

 _Of course I chose the only bathroom in the whole fucking school with mirrors,_ she thought bitterly, digging a crumpled hall pass out of her pocket.

* * *

“What happened to _you?_ ” Chandler mouthed at Duke, who had just stumbled into the English class bearing an uncanny resemblance to a corpse that had just washed up out of the ocean.

Duke sank into the seat in front of her and chose not to reply.

_Opening up to Heather Chandler?_

_Over my dead body._

While being quiet in an already silent class wouldn’t seem like a criminal offense to most people, it didn’t sit well with Chandler, and she settled on kicking Duke’s heels as many times as it took to get a response out of her.

“Pst. Heather.” Chandler paused for the answer she knew she wasn’t going to receive. “Heather. Hey.”

Shooting her a look that said ‘shut the fuck up’ so clearly she might as well have screamed it, Duke refused to respond for the second time.

That, of course, didn’t stop Chandler from harassing her heels.

 _“What?”_ Duke hissed, after five minutes of incessant kicking.

“You look like hell.”

“I _noticed._ ”

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

Whirling around to face Chandler, Duke snapped, “Stop fucking kicking me!”

The class fell silent.

“Heather, may I see you in the hall?”

(If looks could kill, Chandler would’ve disintegrated.) 

And sure, she felt bad for _technically_ getting Duke in trouble, but how could she ignore the fact that she looked straight out of a health class presentation on the misuse of drugs? 

Heather Chandler knew better than anyone how heartless she could be at times- She supposed that this time just so happened to be the exception. 

* * *

Veronica poked the mashed potatoes on her tray with a plastic fork (although to be fair, she wasn't entirely sure that there were any potatoes in them). An eyebrow quirked up at Duke’s sour expression. “Who pissed in your cheerios?” 

It darkened when Chandler took a seat at their table. 

“Oh, it was you.”

Chandler balked. “What did I do? I just got here.”

“You pissed in Duke’s cheerios.”

“Right. Yeah, I did do that.”

Duke stared thoughtfully at her book and flipped back to the first page.

“Hey, at least say _something._ ” Chandler crossed her arms. “Grow up, the silent treatment is for kids. I didn’t even _mean_ to get you in trouble.”

Veronica’s gaze flitted between them. She frowned, pulled her fork out of the ‘potatoes’ with a loud squelching noise, and brandished it at them. “Okay, what happened?” When Chandler groaned and looked away, she rolled her eyes. “Specifically, what did _you_ do?”

“What did who do?” Mac questioned, setting her things down. “Sorry I'm late, by the way, we had to finish an experiment. It was _awesome_.”

Momentarily, Chandler let go of the Duke situation and smiled at Mac. “You'll have to tell me about it later.” Her features hardened again. “And look, Duke, I'm _sorry_ for kicking you or whatever.”

“Why on earth-”

“In my defense, she was ignoring me,” Chandler interrupted, answering Veronica’s question before she’d even finished asking it.

Duke pinched the bridge of her nose. “ _I_ was trying to get an _assignment_ done. _You_ were _distracting me_ , and for the record, I don’t always have to give you my undivided attention.”

“Yeah, well _you_ looked like a _zombie._ _I'm_ just trying to help. You never listen to me!”

Mac grabbed her hand silently. 

_“_ Chandler, what the _hell?”_

“Not now, Veronica. This isn't your battle to fight.” Duke rounded on Chandler, voice dangerously low. “You have no _fucking idea_ what you're talking about.”

And with that, she left the cafeteria and headed straight for the library, leaving the other three in a shocked silence behind her. 

(The world dissolved into black pixels the moment she stood up, and if she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought she was going blind. But it would go back to normal if she just kept moving. It always went back to normal.)

( _I don’t have a problem._ ) 

_Good. Avoiding lunch is always good._

Hearing something borderline nice from the voice was an unusual -but welcome- change of pace, despite the lingering sadness that tinged the knowledge that it would never truly be satisfied. 

_What, did you forget already? Go write it down._

Duke trudged over to a chair and flopped into it. Before she could let herself fully relax, however, she pulled out her book and wrote a note in the margin of an already crowded page:

_Granola bar - 130 calories._


End file.
